Destiny of Thieves
by liondancer17
Summary: The Kingdom of Veles, the first Kingdom to arise from the Earth, has been conquered, and their God driven away. Now, it is up to a band of thieves to rise and reclaim their lost Kingdom, under the rule of the King of Thieves, and their lost God. Fantasy AU!
1. Choice

A/N

Swan-Songs from Livejournal wrote a lovely fantasy AU that I needed to draw from. Please, check out "Trickster's Choice" from her if you want a beautiful fantasy.

Anyway, this will probably be around six to ten chapters, depending on how long I keep up the chapters. Still undecided on the pairings, though vote on that in the reviews, if you like. Any pairing is open.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

The first land, the first great Kingdom in all of the world, is the Isles of Veles.

The Land Chosen by the God protector, the Trickster.

In the center, the very heart of the world, Veles rose as a chain of islands, connected to the main Isle, Maui. The Isles of Veles rose high above the other lands, with violet mountains covered in snow, and rolling plains with millions of colours splashing over the wildflowers. The sea was endless, vast, the heart of the proud Isles, the life of man, the treasure of all beautiful and loving.

It is in Veles that man began, first borne from the fire and ice of the Great Mountain of Dolos, and reaching for the stars in his first steps. The stars swarmed around the first man and the first woman, as they were the chosen bringers of life, and the guardians of the world, of the animals, of the knowledge of the stars. And they were the ones that would bring the world into enlightenment, into eternity.

It was in Veles that man first learned the Language of Song, the Language of the Stars, and how to speak with the Wind and the Trees. They learned what it was to truly live, to truly love, and what it was to be Free, under the guidance of the Trickster.

One day, that changed.

The Celestine Empire, donned in Scarlet Armor to protect themselves from the bloodshed they brought forth, arrived in the Isles of Veles. They stole the beauty from the world, they chained the people to the Earth and sent them falling, and no matter how hard or bravely the Isles of Veles fought, they were not prepared for the evils of Man.

And they waited.

For the promised, the promised that their protector made.

* * *

Alfred F. Jones was not a very good kid, in any sense of the word.

His bright, blue eyes and tousled, blond locks have away his heritage, Veles, so work was useless to him, even if he had been patient enough to truly settle for a job. In truth, he was simply not a boy patient enough for work, or any of that nonsense. He was unbound, a bird trapped in a cage, and damn it, he would not be held back by something as silly as "rules."

Alfred had never known his parents, and it was a joke among some of his friends that he had simply appeared out of thin air, since no one would be able to claim a child like him. Alfred simply laughed and went along with it, knowing that his friends were only teasing, though he couldn't help feeling a bit envious of their families. It didn't hurt, though-how can one miss something they never had? And besides, Mathias and Gilbert had both practically adopted him into their respective families anyway, so it was not as if he was without a place to stay, had he ever needed one.

Which he hadn't. Alfred slept in any abandoned building he could find, too proud to let someone take him in, and being without enough money to really afford a permanent home. It was well-known that Alfred was always on the move, never predictable, never the same person twice. The bird analogy went rather well with him, some guessed that he was a bird who had taken the shape of a man.

And, to that, Alfred would only smile.

His only real means of making money, the only means _any _of the children of Veles had to make money, was through the art of thievery. Particularly, the group that was well-known by the town of Weser as the Rogues-who consisted of Alfred, Mathias, Gilbert, Kiku, Ludwig, Ivan, Elizabeta, and Feliciano. Though their group name was originally a Celestinian slur ("_Look at the little Rogues!" A man sneered, lip curled in a nasty smirk. "Filthy creatures, worse than rabid dogs!") _They had taken to the name marvelously, not caring that it mocked their small size and lack of physical strength. They were Rogues, dammit! Guardians of Veles! The real heroes-the King be damned!

All eight of them were a family, personal backgrounds and friendships not mattering anymore once you've put your life on the line for the other. Any of them would gladly jump in front of a bullet for the other, disregarding their own personal safety. They were family, and family comes before everything.

Ludwig was the unofficial leader of the group-the most mature, the most patient, and the most generous, though he tried to deny it. He would always slip an extra potato into the sac of the one who was currently having the hardest time, and would always bring extra cloaks to any who didn't have any. When any of them were lost, they would turn to Ludwig for leadership, and he was always there with advice and guidance to any of his brothers (and sister.) All of the rest of the rag-tag group clung to each other, having grown-up together and saved one-another countless times. They had a code of honour amongst them. They never stole from children, the sick, the elderly, or the poor. They would never harm their targets-it was always an escape that had to be taken. And, above all else, they would never leave another behind.

All because of thievery.

And it was thievery that led to this situation in the first place.

Alfred, on his own, had decided to pull the grandest heist that any of them had ever seen-a heist on Hindemith, the central market of Veles. Despite the fact that Ophans was now declared to be the new capitol of Veles, Hindemith, out of tradition, still remained the place for wealth to trade, and the rich to gather. Though the most wealthy of merchants would gather in Ophans, Hindemith was the place that the thieves would most often strike. Their poor clothes would not stand out among the crowd of traders, but home-made wealthy tunics would shield them well, and give them a sense of truly belonging. It was a place of wonder to Alfred, a chance to truly help his family, a chance to help the people of Weser truly live, and it was the only one he had.

Alfred was quick and nimble, his wide, blue eyes giving him a look of innocence, and his remarkable balance and control often gave him the appearance of walking on air. With just a few, well-placed words and slight of his clever fingers, he could have several coin purses in just a moment's notice, and had already ducked through the crowd before a lady noticed her jewels were suddenly missing.

Unfortunately, that was not quite enough.

He had snatched three silk purses, all filled with enough silver to give his family food for a month. But he had let his cloak slip, and the guards had caught sight of him, and now were in pursuit. Cursing his clumsiness, Alfred duck and wove between the crowds, tucking the purses into his dark tunic, praying that he would not be caught. He _needed this, _his entire family needed this, it was their only way to survive...

And he knew, he _knew _that his family would come after him. "Once a Rogue, always a Rogue," was their motto, and the Rogues looked out for each other, no matter what the situation was. He could already _feel _the bashing from Elizabeta he would get if he escaped...

_If..._

Giving a rather embarrassed, cheeky smile to the woman who's dress he just snuck under, Alfred narrowly avoided a boxing by her husband and instead slipped into an alleyway, scrambled up the side, and leapt onto another home, ducking over the side, and continuing his escape, until he could hear the pounding of the horses' hooves lessen into silence. Heaving the greatest sigh of relief he didn't know he had, Alfred instead turned to the sky.

The sun was setting. He would need to find shelter before turning back to Weser. But where there any old, abandoned buildings in Hindemith? There was nothing left of Veles, no place that wasn't Celestinian, so would there be a place to hide? He didn't believe so, the Celestines had destroyed anything of Veles pride, including...

_No, it can't be..._

As if drawn by magic, Alfred slowly began to approach the ancient building on the edge of the trader's market, a building that he could not remember seeing, despite the numerous times they had visited the market. It was crumbling, but it still managed to spiral high, the sharp, black towers breaking through the clouds and piercing the sun itself...

Alfred managed to climb upon the roof of a house closest to the building, and-taking a deep breath and giving himself a running start-he flipped onto the balcony of the second story, knowing full-well that, had it somehow managed the Burning of Veles, the front door would be barricaded anyway.

The inside was like nothing Alfred had ever seen before.

Despite the appearance of the building, the inside was decorated beautifully, with colours that the Veles boy had never seen before, much less imagined in a place as destroyed as this. Alfred's eyes widened at the tapestries rolling from the high spires of the castle walls, woven with azure and gold. Though the edges were frayed, and the colours were dulled, he could still _feel _the power of this place. The towering ceiling seem to reach into eternity, the sharp edges of the spires giving a sense of danger, but also a sense of belonging...and the thief slowly descended the tight, scarlet, spiral staircase, and winced rather painfully when he tumbled down the steps, catching himself on his arms and then standing up, feeling embarrassed, despite the fact that no one had seen...

And that was when he saw it.

In the grand hall, at the head, facing the west, was a throne. A throne of silver, empty, with a stained-glass coyote behind it, changing into the shape of a man.

_This...is the Temple of the Trickster._

In all of the centuries that had passed since the conquering of Veles, the Temples of the Trickster had been completely destroyed, burned to ashes. There were still shrines set up, in secret rooms in homes, in passing street corners, places where Celestinian guards would not think to look. Late at night, when the moon was full and the streets were empty, the people of Veles would pray to their protector to return to them. The Trickster had protected his people, and all of the Kings of Veles would rule with his blessing, and with his powers, they would bring light to the land...

Until, Celestine and their God-Ophan, the God of Light-had banished him, slain the royal family, and had burned everything in their wake.

_It was said that He vanished in the last light of the Sun, His grin fading into the stars as He made His last promise. "Remember the ways I have taught you. Remember my oath, that I shall find a Hero when the last of the Royal Line has been brought to the Earth. I will rise again, and reclaim the Holy Land."_

"Now, how poetic is that? They always make me sound so...pretentious. I prefer to be simple, despite the name."

Alfred's mouth fell open and his eyes widened as he whirled around.

Standing behind him was the Trickster.

He could not see the God, no mortal could, but he could _feel _the man's grin, and _feel _the mischief in the God's eyes. His face was a blur, but Alfred could make out piercing, intense, blue eyes, and the man's head was slightly cocked, like a curious puppy. His clothing was every colour and every pattern at once, blindingly bright, but also entrancing in a way that Alfred could not look away from. His very being was like a coyote, and Alfred suddenly understood why that was the sacred animal of Veles. He _glowed _gold and azure in the low light, a star having been brought to earth...

Unsure of how to properly react, Alfred simply gave a deep bow, dropping to his knees and placing his palms against the floor. After a moment, the Trickster laughed.

"It would be a pain to talk to you like that, wouldn't it? Get to your feet, I know who you are, and I really hope you do too, so formalities are just a pain, quite unnecessary to people like us, people with intelligence. You're going to be the King of Veles, so you better get used to this."

Alfred just blinked. Once, twice.

"Wait...what?" After a moment, it registered, and Alfred quickly took several steps back, holding up his hands. "You expect me to do what...? I can't just...do that!"

"Well, you're right about that, but you're not going to be alone. I'd hope someone like you could figure that out. But you won't be alone, you'll have an army of proud Veles behind you. And when you accept your role, you'll have me."

"But...what? Me? Why?"

"What is your name?" The smile was suddenly gone from the Trickster's voice.

"I thought you-!" Alfred started, fists clenching tight.

"But do you?" And suddenly, the Trickster was in front of him, and Alfred could feel his impossible eyes boring into the mortal's.

"Alfred Jones."

"No, not the Celestinian name. YOUR name. Your REAL name, the name that your father and grandfather had, the name that you clung to for so long."

"...America." And suddenly, it clicked.

America.

The name of the last Great King of Veles, before the conquest.

The Trickster smiled. "Good to see you have brains. Now, I have a deal for you. You become the King for me. Set my people free. And in return, you will have my mark, my powers."

"I mean, it's awesome that I get to be a King, but who will listen...? I mean, look at me! I'm seventeen! How will I be able to do that?! And that's not even getting started on the whole rebellion thing!" And the Trickster laughed his coyote laugh, and Alfred felt the grin on his face.

"Well, for starters, we work out the King's contract, and then you go, show off your lineage and the power I gave you, and then go make a rebellion and throw the King off a bridge."

"What does the contract mean?"

"Oh, good, you are a smart little heir. Well, it gives you a few of my powers, and it lets you call on me whenever you want, and I can call on you. It generally makes you a nice little avatar for me."

"You're the Trickster...why should I trust you...?" Alfred asked, a daring edge creeping into his voice. He fully expected to die right there.

"True. But you're the last surviving member of royal blood. What would I have to gain by losing you? Aside from a pain figuring out how to free my people."

Alfred felt the ghost of a smile flicker across his face. "True, but how am I supposed to do that? I have no money, and it's not like the King is just going to lay back and let a teenager throw him off the building and take his throne. How am I supposed to get an army, or resources, or weapons?"

And the Trickster tilted his head, smiling. "You're a smart one, that's really convenient. Unfortunately, I really can't say much until I'm guaranteed a new King for my people. So do you accept?"

Alfred bit his lip. Honestly, he knew that the God probably wasn't telling him everything, but he probably didn't have much of a choice. "Yeah. Make me King."

The Trickster barked his coyote laugh. "Alright, let's work this out." And Alfred could feel the God's eyes mischievously glinting, dancing like blue flames.

The contract was rather easy, considering that neither party really had much patience for business. Alfred, aware of the God's reputation, continually pounced on every vague phrase. To his surprise, with every question he had, the God seemed to be pleased.

"So what do I have to do?"

"Take your place on the throne."

"And...I won't fall into a coma, die, or suddenly sprout extra limbs?"

The Trickster laughed. "Honestly, why would I do that to my last heir?"

Slowly, carefully, Alfred sat on the throne. There was a sudden jolt through his entire body, and everything was suddenly shades of blue and gold and white. But when it was all over, he was still face-to-face with the God, and nothing was really different.

Except that now, he could clearly see the Trickster's eyes.

"I...feel the same."

And the Trickster's smile widened.

"But you're not. Now go make new friends, with every follower you have, I grow stronger, and I will help you fight Celestine."

"But how am I supposed to know who to talk to, and how will I convince them?"

"There's a few little tricks that I gave you. You can call the wolves down like your brothers, and walk on air, like I can. That should be enough, shouldn't it?"

"And what about the rebellion?"

"I'll give you a tip: there's a one in Hamelin, try there. And the Nobles, there are rats among them as well. But first, your little friends. Oh, and one last thing? Try not to lose. I'll see you again." And, with that, the God of Mischief gave a gentleman's bow, and disappeared.

Alfred frowned, then he sneezed.

"For a God, he really is a pain."

* * *

A/N:

Unsubtle shoutouts are unsubtle. And yes, I imagine a Germanic Kingdom here.


	2. Connections

A/N

You guys have no idea how seriously I am enjoying this.

And unasked questions will be answered here, promise. Oh, and I went back and did some major editing in the first chapter. Go check it out if you haven't already.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Alfred Jones felt rather lightheaded by the time that he got back home, partly because he of what just happened, and partly because he was just so tired. He didn't have a single thing to eat the entire day, and doing stunts that would make an acrobat jealous took a lot out of someone.

So, by the time he had managed to stumble back into Weser, he was immediately attacked in the form of two teenagers picking him up and violently slinging him over their shoulders.

"_Dummkopf, _you know better than taking a job on your own!" Gilbert snapped while Alfred blinked, unsure of what to make of being thrown over his friend's back.

"Awwww, I didn't know you cared about him, Gilbert!" Mathias teased, poking the albino's cheek. The albino sent a glare and adjusted Alfred, so that the blond got a very intimate view of Gilbert's backside, and he promptly flailed, knowing he would not be able to get the image out of his head.

"Normally I wouldn't complain about seeing someone's ass, but Gilbert, YOURS IS NOT WHAT I HAD IN MIND!"

"This is what you get for making Ludwig almost get brain fever!"

"I wasn't aware you could get brain fever from not seeing someone for _one day_!"

"It happens when someone as stupid as you goes out on their own!"

"In that case, you should be put in a cage!"

Gilbert laughed. "_Kesesese! _But then the world would miss my awesomeness!"

"You both have no idea how demeaning it is for the King to be ignored!" Mathias pouted, following the two, bickering friends. Alfred stuck out his tongue.

"You had the whole day to get the praises of everyone without the amazing me stealing it, I don't want to hear it!"

"As if! The only attention you get is everyone debating on why we keep you around!"

"It's because of my cuteness, isn't it? And my charm? And my amazing fashion sense?"

"I WILL drop you."

"Good! Then I won't think that you're hitting on me!"

"ALFRED! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?" And in less than a second, Alfred was looking up at the enraged face of Ludwig. Laughing nervously, Alfred rubbed the back of his neck.

"Ehehe...I...err...I...heard about the big trade today, so I thought..."

"That is no excuse! I WILL exclude you from further heists if you continue to go out alone! You could have been captured, do you realize that?! You could have been KILLED! We work together, Alfred! And if this happens again, then you will be staying back at the hideout until further notice, do you understand?" Ludwig snapped, his voice slowly losing volume. Alfred knew it wasn't because he was upset, the older blonde was just worried about losing his family. Alfred nodded slowly, trying hard to ignore the snickers of his friends. They were just glad it wasn't them.

"Yeah...but, when we get back, we need to call an entire meeting as soon as possible." Immediately, the blonde's expression changed.

"What happened?" Alfred bit his lip.

"I...will explain when we get back."

Ludwig nodded. "Okay. Understood."

* * *

A few hours later, after the sun had fallen and the moon had taken her place above, the Rogues had gathered in their hiding place, an old, abandoned warehouse outside of Weser. Most weren't really paying attention to Alfred, who was nervously pacing in the back of the room, occasionally accidentally stepping in mid-air, and catching himself just early enough so he wouldn't really be noticed.

"So what is it that we were called for?" Kiku asked, tilting his head and regarding the blond with patient, curious eyes. Alfred immediately jumped, then spun around, an enormous, enormous, nervous grin on his face.

"Well...it's kind of a long story, but I really need everyone to listen and give it a chance...okay? Ahaha..."

"Did you get caught using a shovel to throw horse shit at the nobles again?" Ivan innocently asked. Gilbert broke down in laughter and Alfred felt his face burn.

"N-no! This is really different! I...err...I...I was picked by the Trickster to become the new King of Veles!"

For a long time, there was complete silence, then Gilbert started to laugh.

"Good one! _Kesesese, _but you know, I always thought you could do better!"

"N-no, I'm serious! I escaped from the guards, and I ran into the Temple of the Trickster, and he said that I was the last in the heir of the throne! He said that all of us would find a rebellion and take back Veles from Celestine!"

"I'm done. I'm leaving." Elizabeta said, scowling as she rose from her seat. Everyone knew Veles pride was a sore spot for her. Her father had been killed for trying to start a rebellion when she was just a baby.

"Elizabeta, please...just watch."

And then, slowly, Alfred began to walk into mid-air, until the top of his head was lightly brushing against the ceiling.

Elizabeta sat down, green eyes bright with tears.

When they were all younger, when they did not know each other, when there was nothing but the thin balance of light and shadow in their lives, there was always the song that brought them home. _The Trickster's Promise, _the folk song that the people of Veles sang when there was nothing but hope left, nothing that could be held onto but the hope of the promise...

_"You will know me when I walk the skies-_

_The chosen of me, destiny will not shy!_

_I will bring you home, the promise of me-_

_The Trickster said, then he ceased to be-"_

That single verse, all of them knew more than their own names. The Kings blessed by the Trickster could walk the skies themselves.

"That's...completely impossible. It's just not real! We were abandoned centuries ago by Him! And now, and now, when we have nothing left, you believe that He is going to help us? You...you're insane! There's no way we're going to win! We're all going to die, Alfred! You can't expect us to go along with Him! I don't want to see you die for something that only a fool would try!"

Elizabeta was on her feet, hands shaking, green eyes spilling over with tears. "I'm not going to let my only family die for a fake God!"

Alfred stepped out of thin air, but before he could get to her, Gilbert already had her by her shoulders, and was looking into her eyes, completely serious for maybe the first time.

"Elizabeta..."

"No! I won't listen, I won't lose all of you to this! I can't!" Elizabeta clasped her hands over her ears, hunching down her shoulders and shaking.

"Elizabeta, we aren't going to lose." Feliciano said, putting his hand over the girl's and smiling. "I promise, okay?"

"I can't..." she whispered. "I can't..."

"Then you don't have to." Ludwig said simply, getting to his feet. "We won't involve you, and you'll still always be welcome back to us, but, and I can't speak for all of us, I will fight with Alfred. I believe him, and I believe in the Trickster."

Alfred felt his face flush. Honestly, he thought he would have to drag them all back to the temple and call the Trickster and possibly risk something really bad happening.

He really shouldn't have been worried at all, it was ridiculous even to consider.

They were family, so of course they would believe him.

"Can I get to be your general?" Ivan asked, raising his hand.

* * *

It had taken several weeks for the Rogues to really get everything planned out, which was a first, to be honest. Usually, even level-headed Ludwig was more likely to jump right into a plan than to carefully plan it, so this was a real change. Carefully stealing coin purses from the markets and anyone that they happened to pass by, they were soon able to gather enough silver and gold to work on gathering weapons.

"I think we should make uniforms for ourselves." Feliciano suggested, smiling as he counted the money they had stolen. Kiku raised his eyebrows.

"Wouldn't that make us easier to catch from Celestinians? It's better if we lay low for the time being."

"Ve, I don't mean things that we can wear in public! I mean things we'll wear in meetings that will show our loyalty to our God. That would raise hope, wouldn't it? That we are brave enough to be proud of our home."

"I suppose that could work..." Ludwig said quietly.

"I like cloaks!" Mathias added, grinning widely. "Gold and blue, it sounds so cool!"

"I think Alfred should be the one to wear blue and gold, the rest of us can wear blue. That sounds fair, doesn't it?" Kiku suggested.

"Agreed. Then we will purchase the silk to make it." Ludwig said.

Alfred just blinked.

"Aren't I supposed to be the King?"

Feliciano had immediately set to work on the cloaks after they had enough money to buy silk, which was something that took a lot of time in itself to gather. Feliciano and Elizabeta were the two tailors in the group, and could have probably made a legitimate living off of their skills, but they had chosen to stay with the Rogues for some reason. Probably because they had simply been together so long that leaving felt like simply not an option.

During the day, they worked together to gather money from Celestinian nobles, robbing the markets and, sometimes, the homes of the guards themselves. At night, they took to the streets, quietly working together to track the underground networks of the Veles uprisings, under the name "The Seven Generals of the Trickster." To emulate the God he would serve, Alfred had begun painting a black line under each eye, and always walked at the fore of his generals, at least a foot off the ground.

"Show off." Mathias snorted. Alfred only shot him a mischievous grin.

"Comes with the territory."

It was when they finally were able to go to Hindemith that they knew they were ready to begin.

After following vague leads for several weeks, they were finally able to track down the meeting place for the Veles Rebellion in Hindemith, near the riverbank of Steigen. They were still dressed in dark tunics that spoke of poor backgrounds, but the midnight-blue cloaks that shielded their faces, and the swords that they had stolen from the guards gave a strange air of authority that shouldn't be there.

"We request entrance." Ludwig said, his voice low. From behind him, a shudder ran through Elizabeta, and she placed her hand on the hilt of her blade. The door opened, and standing there was a nobleman with black hair neatly parted to the side, and a pair of glasses that violet eyes gazed over with piercing judgment.

"What brought you to this place?"

"The call of the Trickster."

"Who do you serve?"

"Only the chosen."

"Then you are welcome." He stood aside, and the seven thieves walked in to a room filled with a sea of different faces. Some, clearly nobles, while others looked to be just looking for a place to belong.

The thing that caught Ludwig's eyes the most was a noble boy, dressed in white silk, carrying a white bear on his lap, with the exact same face as Alfred.

"Lovino told us you were coming, with a deal to propose to us." The violet-eyed nobleman said. At that, Feliciano's breath caught, but Ludwig held onto his hand. Lovino and Feliciano had been separated when their parents split apart.

"You'll see him soon, I promise." Ludwig murmured. Then, speaking louder, he began. "We have found the Chosen, and we bring him here to you, so that we may reclaim our home."

"Yes, yes, we've been told that before. Where is your chosen, unless you claim it to be yourself?" Another voice said. This time, it was Arthur, one of the captains of the Celestinian guard. Ludwig could feel Ivan tense behind him.

"No, it's me, actually."

Like a shadow coming to life, Alfred stepped forth from the walls, a wide, mischievous grin on his face, and his blue eyes glowing with secrets. The gold and blue cloak seem to have a life of its own, spinning dramatically away from him, almost giving off its own, strange life.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again, he's a big show-off."

Alfred walked until he was standing above the entire table, looking down with eyes dancing with pure excitement. Ludwig couldn't help but give a small smile. Alfred was _really_ in his element.

"And what deal do you propose, whoever you are?" Arthur said, hand inching toward his blade. Alfred gave another smile and held up his hands, showing he was unarmed.

"I want to help you, and you, in return, will help us." He said, voice light and conversational, despite the obvious threat.

"Who is_ us_?"

"_My _chosen, my people that will help you get to victory."

"Why should we trust you?" Another voice asked. A man with darker skin and green eyes, his voice carrying an accent as one of the ones from another island of Veles.

"Because I'm asking you to keep doing exactly what you've been, but on my behalf. I'll repay you, of course, and I won't forget you_ when_ we win. As you probably noticed, our lovely King is not doing anything to help us, which, as I know, you don't like. Quite noble, I must say, for you to care about us."

"But you don't. You don't care about us, and you'll forget us if you become King." The boy with Alfred's face said, standing up.

Had Alfred recognized him, or had even been surprised that he met someone so like himself, he didn't react. Instead, he smiled.

"Then you really don't know me at all, do you? Veles is my home, and its people are my family. And when my family gets hurt, I won't stop until somebody pays. Now, enough of that! Do you agree to join me? Oh, you'd probably like a moment to decide, wouldn't you?" And with that, Alfred touched the floor, and left the room, the others falling naturally behind him.

"You seemed so...different." Kiku finally said. Alfred laughed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Did I?"

"Do you know who that person is? The one who looks like you?" Mathias asked, eyes narrowing. Alfred smiled.

"No, but we'll have time to find out."

"We've made our decision." Arthur said, opening the door. "We'll join you, if it means serving the Trickster."

"Good, then tell others that I'm coming to take them home. A little something for your troubles." Alfred said, placing a thick coin purse in Arthur's palm. Then the blond gave a gentleman's bow, and suddenly vanished from sight.

* * *

"I still CANNOT believe you gave that away!"

"It was a promise!"

"Ve...we could have bought so much food with that..."

"We'll get more!"

"Alfred, I hate you."

"I'm sorry!"

* * *

A/N

Review?


	3. Fools

A/N

Okay, so finally time to start working again.

Longest chapter yet. I hope that you like. FINALLY getting back into Hetalia.

Kind of.

Next update will be the Cardverse, for my darling Tumblr followers who put up with my comic fan bullshit.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

Thieves, many would say, are the worst breed of human.

Thieves make a living off of being evil, and dishonest liars. They know nothing of hard work, many would say. Thieves live off the scraps of humankind, flitting at the skirts of workers and those who are destined for greatness.

They know not what it is to be human, some would say. They are insects. They are leeches.

They are things.

But humans are shortsighted that way, I think. At least, in my opinion. And I daresay that I have a rather _experienced_ opinion, considering what I have seen. But perhaps you don't believe me, and hey, I don't _blame _you. It would be rather disappointing, I think, but who am I to judge humans?

Some Gods I know-and I know a couple from my past relations with humans-hold a rather disappointing view of the mortal realm, which is quite depressing, when I think about it.

(Just as an added note: I don't think about depressing things that often. I'm not that kind of God. If you want an angst-muffin God, go find the God of Music. Though…I am trying to help him with that, and hopefully, he'll be back to being my partner-in-crime soon. So maybe you should try the God of Winter instead. He_ never _stops being a stick-in-the-mud…or ice, I suppose. But please don't tell him I said that. Ice puns are _not _something he likes to hear.)

Humans are _marvelous_ beings, in my highly-valued opinion. They weren't born with any sort of advantages, but despite that, in their short lives, they manage to do incredible things that even impress _me,_ and I am very hard to impress. I rather enjoy taking on mortal and animal form, walking amongst the mortals and watching them live. It is not in a God's nature to feel sympathy or fear, or to care about anything besides survival and worship. It is not in a God's nature to grow and change, or to become anything more than a being that _exists _to embody the universe's core.

But I have never been a normal God, as you have probably gathered from my name.

A **Trickster** is above the rest, and I do not mean that in the arrogant way…though I _probably _do deserve to. A **Trickster **makes things happen, ignoring the laws, ignoring the _impossible, _bending the universe itself to our _will_ and creating our own reality that we become our own Gods to. And _I _am the one who created the world where mortals were not just our servants, but our equals. It's much more _fun, _I think, when the known becomes the unknown, and there are more **Tricksters **than I.

A **Trickster** isn't just about cons and lies and thievery. A **Trickster** isn't pranks cruelty. No, we are the line between Light and Darkness, a balancing act, proving that the universe isn't _rules _or _evil, _or even _good._ We're not chaos, no, that is too _simple. _Gods of Chaos are a little too much on the _evil _side, if you ask me. Death isn't something I play with, it's too messy and depressing and I don't _do _depressing.

No. A **Trickster **is defiance, creation, the line In-Between _realities. _I am _creation and destruction, _Good and Evil. I'm a paradox, a contradiction, and that's what makes it so _fun._

My pups, the little **Tricksters **that walk the land of humans, they know Me, who I am, though they probably don't know they do. They're the ones you see with my light shining from them, the ones with the Laughter of the Coyote, the ones who can walk on air and do _impossible things. _

My favorites are the ones who _know it. _The ones who _know _they're my pups, and use it to bring _laughter _to a world that is, in all honesty, way too _damn depressing._ (I also have a soft spot for the ones touched by the God of Music, but that's probably just my soft spot for Him, and that doesn't count.)

The Game of Life, because it _is always a Game, _is far too interesting when the humans get involved. And interesting is what _I love._

_ So pick yourself up, get back out there, and _**I**_ will take care of you, little _**Trickster.**

* * *

There was a very distinct, soft snicker coming from Alfred's left, and the blond scowled, drawing his midnight-blue hood over his head. He was very, very strongly tempted to reach out and smack the albino, but that would probably only serve to get them caught by Celestine guards, so he resigned himself to the albino's mocking laughter.

"Shut up, Gil." Ludwig hissed over Alfred's right shoulder, and Alfred gave an appreciative nod in the older boy's direction. There was an almost indistinct movement out of the corner of Alfred's eye, and he watched as Feliciano and Elizabeta approached, flanked by Roderich and Arthur, a small group of five following them.

"Where's Ivan and Kiku?" Gilbert murmured, and Alfred turned to him, blue eyes glittering in excitement.

"The second group. I sent them out to survey the market, find the shrines of the Trickster. Our followers will be found there."

Ludwig frowned. "I still don't trust them."

"They don't trust _us, _but as long as they help, does it matter?" Alfred replied. Ludwig opened his mouth to argue the nonsense and invalidity of that point, but was cut off by Arthur.

"We've managed to get the underground connections to agree to take your name as their symbol. And I'd appreciate some recognition for the effort-it's rather hard to do it without proof that Alfred isn't another crazy convinced that he's the chosen by partaking in the consumption of the local fungi." Arthur spoke, green eyes glittering in feigned anger. Alfred laughed, appearing from the shadows once more in a swirl of azure and gold.

"You have quite an imagination, sorcerer. But I must say, I'm rather insulted at the implication that I would dare to soil these good looks with substances such as that!" Gilbert snorted.

"Quite honestly, I think that anything that could alter your appearance is an improvement. Including being turned into a pig."

"I will very mercifully pretend I did not hear that."

"So this is the one who is to be our future king?" Another voice asked. A woman stepped forward, platinum-blonde hair framing her pale face, indigo eyes sharply regarding Alfred, who in turn smiled and bowed.

"Yes, and I am proud to be of your acquaintance." His laughing eyes danced as he watched the faces of the new arrivals. A slight man of oriental descent, with a black ponytail and dark brown eyes, standing next to a smaller man with shorter hair, thick eyebrows, and an expressionless face, near a small girl with short, blonde hair and green eyes, and a taller man with the same, cropped hair, one arm protectively around her shoulders. There was also a taller woman with bobbed hair and a rather…generous figure. All of them were nobles, Alfred realized with a start. Every last one of them were of Celestinian descent, and yet they were all here, as rebels.

Alfred's voice was quiet as he spoke.

"I'm not going to ask for your loyalty to me. We live in a time where loyalty is hard to earn, and even harder to keep. And I will not ask that you completely trust me, because, quite honestly, I would not trust me, if I was in the same position as you."

Alfred's smile was like a blade, cold and sharp. And his voice was somehow louder the softer her spoke.

"But if you hurt my people, then I will not hesitate to kill you."

"It's funny, I could say the very same to you, little king." The platinum blonde replied. In turn, Alfred only smiled.

"Then it is quite relieving to know we are on the same side, isn't it? I can't imagine would it would be like to be on the wrong side of your blade." The smile he wore grew a little tight around the edge as Alfred gave a low, humble bow, reaching one hand before him in a sign of defeat, and Alfred had to stifle a laugh at the almost silent scream Ivan made in the background. The Baroness Natalya Arlovskya was well-known for her fearsome temper, which made her terrifying and almost untouchable to the men around her.

Natalya gave a jerk of her chin, tossing her head back in acknowledgement of the king's humility. "I am glad to see that we are in agreement at the notion of loyalty to one another, little king."

"I am insulted that you think I would ever betray the people of Veles." Alfred's eyes glittered like diamonds, and he straightened, walking forward, every step taking him further into the air, until he was two meters off the ground, head tilted to the side like a curious puppy. His watchers visibly stiffened at the clear sign of nobility.

"I'm not asking for your trust or your adulation or even that you like me. I just want you to help me become a symbol. To use my name when you fight for our people. Spread the word that the True King has returned, and I'll retake the throne for you."

"For us, or for yourself?" the noble Vash Zwingli asked, eyes hardening. Alfred opened his mouth, but was not given the chance to respond when Ivan drew his sword, and on his signal, all of the Rogues drew their blades as one, the quicksilver weapons pointed at the small group of nobles. Alfred quickly descended to the ground, placing a gentle hand on the shoulder of the violet-eyed teen, giving a gentle smile.

"I assure you. The Isles of Veles are not just my home. They are my very existence." With sharp eyes, he looked at the nobles. "And I intend to bring it back to the glory it _deserves._"

"You're far too overdramatic." Arthur said, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. Alfred laughed.

"No, I just like to be completely _honest_ about things."

"Then tell me, what is the thing that you are planning to do, to get yourself back onto the throne?" Yao Wang asked, stepping into the silver light of the moon. Immediately, Alfred's eyes hardened.

"Thanks to the nobles in the Resistance of Hamelin, we know about the location of the Military Arms Storage, and the prison that holds the traitors of the Celestine Empire. On the full moon of next month, after word has spread about the King's Return, we're going to storm both, and make our full debut in Veles." Alfred's lips curled into a smile, eyes glowing in anticipation. "The _tricks _I have up my sleeve…they won't know what hit 'em."

* * *

"You know, I still can't believe we're actually doing this." Kiku said softly. Alfred blinked, then tossed him an easy smile.

"I know what you mean."

"We don't have to." Elizabeta added. The three of them were standing outside of the hideout, watching the crescent moon slowly rise in the sky.

"You know it's only right."

"We're just _kids, _Alfred!" Elizabeta said, exasperated. "You're not even twenty yet! Seriously, this God must have been desperate…"

"Thanks." Alfred replied, rolling his eyes. Kiku hid his smile behind his hand. Behind them, the door opened, and Gilbert walked out, closely followed by his brother, Feliciano, and Mathias. Ivan hesitantly walked out a few moments later.

"I hope you realize how much I put up with because of you." Gilbert scolded, and Alfred stook out his tongue. Mathias groaned.

"I will NEVER forgive you for taking my title, Al!"

"Only you called yourself king!"

"It was my _thing. _You took my _thing_, bro! My _thing!_ Now the Awesome Trio has been torn! And we can never be put back together! My _thing!_"

Alfred laughed. "And _I _was called overdramatic!" he reached out and patted the other blond's head, suddenly giving a very serious look. "You're going to be a general. And that will be your _thing. _General of the northern mountains."

"We should have some sort of fancy name." Feliciano suggested, leaning against the railing that had once separated the warehouse from the rest of town. "Something…that says nobility. Something cool."

"We already do, _da_?"

"Rogues doesn't exactly scream 'nobility'." Ludwig pointed out. Ivan shrugged.

"No, but that's who we are, _da_? And just because we're going to change where we live, doesn't mean we'll lose who we are."

"Yes, causing a revolution is so insignificant, isn't it?" Ludwig teased, shaking his head. Mathias laughed.

"No, but I see where he's coming from. _Crap,_ you're trying to make me get all sappy, aren't you? Ivan, you evil bastard!" The violet-eyed boy laughed.

"_Da, _it is my secret plan!" A sudden aura of pure, concentrated _evil _emanated from the taller boy. "_And I will tell everyone about it unless you tell me where you found the sunflowers. Kolkolkol…"_

Mathias let out a shriek and hid behind Gilbert, and the two began to try and shove each other in front while everyone else sniggered at their fear.

"_Ahh…scary..."_ Feliciano squeaked, hiding behind Ludwig, who was fighting desperately to hide a smile while he pet the younger boy's hair. Elizabeta rolled her eyes.

"Yep. We are _so _ready for this."

"I know, aren't we awesome?" Alfred asked in complete seriousness. Ludwig facepalmed, and Elizabeta snorted as both Gilbert and Mathias collapsed over each other and cried.

* * *

"I honestly don't know what's more foolish. Their God, or the ones that serve him." The King observed, tilting his head in amusement.

The twelve-winged Angel of Light draped himself over the back of the King, a smile tugging at his lips. "_The God, obviously. Humans cannot help their foolishness, but Gods can."_

"I suppose you're right." The King observed. The God of Light smiled, blue eyes glittering in triumph.

"And this time, they won't get away. I assure you, my King."

"I know. They'll face righteousness soon enough."

* * *

A/N

Review?


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